jacob@brokensandals.net · 2026-01-11

In this post: reviews of a great new sci-fi novel, a classic historical murder mystery, a short book on normative realism, a geopolitics book I read for an upcoming meetup, a repetitive game, and a comic about college students.

Review: Claire North’s Slow Gods

With Iain Banks sadly gone, I’m grateful someone else has stepped up to provide melancholy space opera with unusual and occasionally complicated names for Peter Kenny to narrate. Excellent audiobook.

Some memorable aspects:

Review: Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose

I might have been bored by this if I’d read it in text form. It’s a long book full of long disquisitions from quaintly delusional viewpoints. But the audio version narrated by Sean Barrett, Neville Jackson, and Nicholas Rowe does a great job of pulling you into the strange world and strange minds of its 14th-century monks. It’s a charming experience.

That doesn't really come across in the 1986 film adaptation because it (understandably) doesn't spend much time explaining the intertwined theological and political disputes that form the backdrop of the story. The movie also simplifies the protagonists in ways that make them less interesting: Adso, the novice, seems too modern, showing little evidence of how heavily his society's notions about sin and heresy have influenced his inner life; William, the master, is highlighted for his intelligence much more than his heart and his deep convictions. Sean Connery looking like he's about to break into a smirk in almost every scene doesn't help in that regard. And the ending is a bit pat: in the movie, the burning of the library is a blessing that leads to the saving of the girl's life and justice against the inquisitor; in the book, it's simply another tragedy in a series of senseless tragedies. All that aside, it's got a great aesthetic and some interesting visuals.

review: T. M. Scanlon’s Being Realistic About Reasons

What does it mean to say someone has a “reason” to act a certain way? What makes it true that you do, or don’t, have a reason to do something? This book’s first lecture describes three theories on the subject:

Scanlon makes an important point about desire-based views: they “can be understood in two very different ways, and statements of these theories often do not clearly distinguish between them.” (p. 5) They can be taken to make “substantive normative claims” (i.e., you should do what would fulfill your desires) or “to offer … a reductive claim” (i.e., saying you have a reason to do something is merely another way of saying that it would fulfill your desires).

Anecdotally, I think many people are drawn to desire-based theories because a reductionist account fits well with a mechanistic view of the universe and seems to leave no unresolved mysteries. But sometimes the same people espouse the idea that you should try to fulfill your desires—that it’s somehow irrational not to. Their reductionist view leaves no way of making any meaningful claim along those lines. For a consistent reductionist, I think, any attempt to call you irrational or misguided for not trying to achieve your own desires must ultimately be a tautological observation: they’re merely pointing out that if you don’t do what would best achieve your desires, you aren’t doing what would best achieve your desires. Scanlon says:

It seems, then, that desire theories face a dilemma: either they begin with a normative claim about reasons for action, in which case they do not explain the features of reasons that may seem puzzling; or else they make a reductive claim, which eliminates normativity altogether. (p. 7)

He also says that isn’t why he rejects such theories…

A main goal of the book is to argue that reasons really are fundamental in spite of such “features that may seem puzzling”. This means the first horn of the dilemma—appealing to a normative truth saying we should pursue our desires (or something along those lines)—is compatible with Scanlon’s metaphysical/epistemological views (see lecture 4, around p. 87). But he does not think such a “normative desire theory” has “plausible consequences about what we have reason to do”(p. 87). He also thinks it “misdescribes the relation between desires and reasons from an agent’s own point of view”(p. 88), a point he discussed at length in What We Owe to Each Other (see my summary of that in slide 7 of this slideshow).

I agree the dilemma isn’t sufficient reason to reject desire-based views, but I think it undermines much of their appeal. If you’re willing to believe in the existence of the kind of fundamental normative truths necessary to take the first horn, it’s far from obvious why there should be such truths telling us to follow our desires but not truths telling us to do other things (like pursue pleasure or virtue). If you think the idea of fundamental normative truths is unacceptably weird, you have to take the second horn of the dilemma, which I think has more radically nihilistic implications than people typically realize: not only does it mean there’s no objective basis for criticizing someone who ignores moral considerations, it also means there’s no objective basis for criticizing yourself or others for acting contrary to your/their own interests or desires. (Although you could still say things like I should pursue my desires, it would be an empty statement, because the word ‘should’ could not have any deeper meaning than simply to be an arbitrary label grouping together all the actions that have the property of promoting your desires.)

If you’ve read What We Owe to Each Other (see my notes in slide 5 of this slideshow), it probably won’t come as a surprise that Scanlon defends Reasons Fundamentalism. His view is similar to Parfit’s “Non-Metaphysical Cognitivism” from chapter 31 of On What Matters (see my review): to say reasons ‘exist’ is just to say some normative claims are true, and such claims can be true—and known to us—without any mysterious mystical entities existing.

Although Scanlon makes more of an attempt to give a positive account of how we could know normative truths than Parfit did, I still feel like a crucial piece is missing. He draws analogies between mathematical and normative truths, but I suspect the idea that mathematical claims are objectively true/false can be fully cashed out in terms of the idea that some set of claims do/don’t form an internally consistent system. (Maybe Scanlon disagrees; see lecture 4 section 2.) Consistency is a (relatively) non-mysterious concept whose objectivity is (relatively) non-mysterious; what criteria we should use in judging normative claims, and why those criteria have objective validity, seems more mysterious. And though I agree with Scanlon that the pursuit of reflective equilibrium is the right way to justify our judgments about normative claims, I still want a theory about why any of the normative intuitions that feed into that process should be seen as real insights rather than arbitrary biases.

(The discussion of such epistemological issues in lecture 4 is nuanced and might be worth revisiting in the future.)

Longer notes…

Scanlon lists several issues about reasons that we’d want a theory to address: the nature of their “Relational Character” (“[r]easons are reasons for an agent” (p. 3)), whether/how they have “Determinate Truth Values”, how their “Supervenience” on “natural facts” works, how we have “Knowledge” of them, how it’s possible for them to have “Practical Significance”, what it means for different reasons to have different degrees of “Strength”, and the puzzle of “Optionality”.

I like his breakdown of “three kinds of objections” to Reasons Fundamentalism:

Metaphysical objections claim that a belief in irreducibly normative truths would commit us to facts or entities that would be metaphysically odd—incompatible, it is sometimes said, with a scientific view of the world.

Epistemological objections maintain that if there were such truths we would have no way of discovering them.

Practical objections maintain that if conclusions about what we have reason to do were simply beliefs in a kind of fact, they could not have the practical significance that reasons are commonly supposed to have. (p. 16, line breaks and emphasis added)

Lecture 2 addresses metaphysical objections. First, Scanlon argues that there are various “domains” such as “mathematics, science, and moral and practical reasoning” (p. 18) which each have their own “standards” for determining the truth of claims within them. If we try to apply the standards we use for evaluating claims about the physical world to claims about reasons or mathematical objects, we may worry that saying the latter “exist” implies they have some sort of mysterious quasi-physical existence; Scanlon would instead say that those things “exist” in the sense that certain statements about them are true according to the standards appropriate for the domain those statements belong to.

The claim that mountains exist is licensed by and licenses certain other claims about the physical world. The claim that there exists a number or set of a certain kind is licensed by and licenses certain other mathematical claims. And in each case that is all there is to it. (p. 25)

Is there, as e.g. Hume thought, a “gap” such that we can’t reach normative conclusions from only non-normative premises? Scanlon says yes: to fully explain the move from a non-normative statement to a normative one we ultimately need to appeal to some “pure normative claim”, which for example could be something like “anyone in [certain] circumstances has reason to do what is necessary to prolong his life.” (p. 39)

When we see that the role of pure normative claims is precisely to license such moves, it is no longer surprising that we cannot “get from” a normative claim to a non-normative one without “already making” a normative claim. (p. 39)

Scanlon thinks that not only are there irreducibly normative concepts, there are also irreducibly normative properties. The distinction between concepts and properties sounds abstruse, but these passages help clarify it:

Identifying concepts is a matter of determining the content of our thoughts. Specifying properties is a matter of determining the nature of things in the world to which those concepts correspond. …

The concept, morally wrong, for example, includes such marks as being “an action that anyone has very strong reason not to perform, and which makes appropriate guilt on the part of one who has done it and resentment on the part of those to whom it is done.” But this leaves open what reason there is not to perform these actions, and to feel guilt or resentment as a result of their being done. A person can understand and employ the concept morally wrong without having a very clear idea what these reasons are, just as someone can have the concept, water, without knowing the chemical composition of water. There is more to be said about what makes something morally wrong, and the task of giving this further account might be said to be the task of characterizing the property of moral wrongness. (p. 33-34)

Scanlon responds to arguments by Gibbard (Thinking How to Live), Schroeder (Slaves of the Passions), and Jackson (From Metaphysics to Ethics) which (maybe) argue that irreducibly normative concepts nevertheless correspond to natural properties.

Lecture 3 addresses the concern, which might be raised in favor of expressivism, “that an account that interprets judgments about reasons as beliefs is unable to explain the practical significance of such judgments, in particular their connection with action.” (p. 53) I’m not sure I fully understand the concern here. Scanlon’s answer—which he says is “commonsensical”, and it does seem so to me—seems to be basically that part of being rational just is to be the sort of creature whose behavior is affected by its beliefs about reasons.

…a being is a rational agent only if the judgments that it makes about reasons make a difference to the actions and attitudes that it proceeds to have. (p. 54)

Scanlon is responding to expressivists including Hare and Gibbard; those views try to give an “account of the common-sense idea of treating something as a reason” which avoids “attribut[ing] to rational agents beliefs about which things are reasons” (p. 57), whereas Scanlon’s account does the latter. He gives some arguments against expressivism that seem fairly familiar (and correct, imo), e.g. its inability to account for “the possibility that one[self] might be fundamentally in error in one’s [own] normative beliefs” (p. 60) Lecture 3 section 4 is difficult for me to follow but seems to be saying that expressivism can’t make sense of what’s going on when a person asks themselves what should I do?

Scanlon addresses complaints that an appeal to objectively correct reasons is ultimately just “foot-stamping” or a desire to have an external authority to tell you what to do/want. In terms of providing any deeper account of what a normative truth is or how it’s possible for it to exist, though, the book so far can’t provide any further illumination.

Lecture 4 is where Scanlon tries to give a positive account of how we can know normative truths. In section 2 he discusses, as an analogy, how we judge truth in the the realm of mathematics, particularly with regard to set theory. We don’t use empirical methods; yet, he argues, “the modes of thinking that support set-theoretic axioms do not consist simply in recognizing conceptual truths.”(p. 73) Axioms can also “be supported” by “the plausibility of [their] consequences”(p. 74).

It might be said, then, that the axioms of set theory are justified ultimately by what Rawls called the method of reflective equilibrium.(p. 76)

Scanlon discusses this method in section 3. He addresses the concern that this process’s ability to justify conclusions depends on already having some justification for accepting one’s judgments regarding the topic, and he seems to some extent to agree, but I’m left confused by his comments because it seems like a large piece of the “positive” account of knowing normative truths is still missing.

In the fifth section of lecture 4 Scanlon discusses constructivism:

Although I think that constructivist accounts of justice and morality have considerable plausibility, I do not believe that a plausible constructivist account of reasons for action in general can be given. (p. 98)

He uses his own contractualist moral theory and Rawls’s theory of justice as examples. IIUC, he’s saying that we might be able to justify some constructivist account of one of those topics via reflective equilibrium, but the question of how much reason we have to act in accordance with justice/morality would remain—and we probably can’t resolve such questions with a constructivist account. Korsgaard’s theory would be one attempt, which he thinks fails; he also mentions “the formal conception of rationality discussed by John Broome and others”(p. 100), which can’t fill the role because it has “no substantive implications about the reasons people have.”(p. 100) He additionally rejects a constructivist account by Sharon Street based on the idea of reflective equilibrium. Rather, he thinks:

Our confidence that statements about reasons have determinate truth values thus depends on our confidence in the results of this process [of ‘seeking reflective equilibrium’] in particular cases rather than on some general account of reasons, of the sort that a normative desire theory, or a global constructivist theory, would provide.(p. 104)

Lecture 5 discusses the idea that different reasons have different strengths. Scanlon does not think strength is a sort of quantity attached to a reason which can be assessed in isolation (e.g. by calculating the expected utility of a course of action); rather:

The strength of a reason is an essentially comparative notion, understood only in relation to other particular reasons.(p. 111)

Review: Rochelle Terman’s The Geopolitics of Shaming

Some key points:

To support her claims about how shaming and shamed states behave differently based on their relationships to each other, Terman presents an analysis of data on the UN’s Universal Periodic Review, a process where countries peer-review each other on human rights issues. To back up claims about how domestic public opinion is affected by international shaming, she looks at a couple survey-based studies she performed in the US. To my (completely unqualified) eyes the UPR study seems pretty interesting, while I’d be hesitant to put much weight on the surveys (and they seem to have more ambiguous results).

It’s easy to sell me on the main ideas here; I think they fit with a common-sense understanding of human nature. For example, in domestic politics, we all intuitively know criticism of the other party is more powerful when it comes from someone within that party, and I’ve personally been pretty worried that the left’s constant and intense shaming of the right is helping fuel the right’s rise. But I hadn’t thought about the implications of those dynamics for international policy before.

Longer notes…

Chapter 2 discusses three broad motivations a state may have for shaming others over human rights violations. One is simply a desire to stop the violations. Terman models states as primarily self-interested, and she seems to take it as definitionally true that improving human rights in one state does not benefit another state. Thus there is a puzzle as to why states engage in shaming as much as they do, given the costs involved and the possibility of free riding (i.e. stay out of it and hope other states will do the work of shaming the offender). Two other motivations for shaming help explain this: desire to be seen as a supporter of human rights, and desire for one’s adversaries to be seen otherwise. For those motives, it’s really not important whether shaming works in the sense of getting the target state to comply; the shamer’s goal of increasing their own status or harming their adversary’s interests is orthogonal to actually reducing human rights violations abroad.

Chapter 3 discusses factors affecting a state’s response to shaming. Responses to being shamed for violating some norm can be roughly categorized as compliance, deflection (trying to combat the perception that you’ve violated the norm), or defiance (rejecting the norm itself). Shaming by adversaries is likely to lead to defiance. It can even actively hinder the efforts of local activists in the target country. When shamed heavily by both adversaries and allies, deflection can be more appealing.

Chapter 4 begins to look at empirical evidence. Terman looked at data from UPR Info to study the UN’s Universal Periodic Review, a process where countries peer-review each other on human rights issues. Her findings suggest:

What does geopolitical affinity mean?

…I capture foreign policy support by examining the degree of geopolitical affinity…. States that have embraced the neoliberal order advanced by the United States and other Western states may easily brush off criticism from those who rebel against that order (and vice versa). In contrast, harsh criticisms from governments with similar foreign policy dispositions cannot be dismissed as easily. Geopolitical affinity is measured by taking the absolute distance between country ideal-points, estimated using votes in the UN General Assembly and multiplying this by minus one. Larger values represent smaller distances and thus higher levels of ideological convergence on global issues. (p. 81)

(She references Bailey, Strezhnev, and Voeten 2015 on this measurement.)

Terman gives a couple specific examples of states responding differently to very similar criticism depending on their relationship with the reviewer: Iran in 2010 regarding treatment of religious minorities (supported a review from Brazil but not France); the Netherlands in 2012 regarding “violence against women”(p. 93) (supported reviews from “the United States and Chile” but not “Cuba and Uzbekistan”(p. 94)).

Chapter 5 looks at a couple of survey experiments that Terman performed in the US to try to see how people react to shaming of their country. There are various interesting nuances but she does find evidence that shaming backfires in at least some ways (even among Democrats) and “that shaming by US adversaries is more likely to backfire than shaming by friends and allies on average.”(p. 120) It’s not totally clear (from my quick read) which results are statistically significant and in general I don’t think I’d be very moved by evidence from just a couple surveys anyway, but it would be cool to see more extensive research into this. Really, I find Terman’s theory intuitively compelling, so I’d be most interested in evidence that disconfirmed it.

Chapter 6 looks at two historical cases through the lens of Terman’s theory.

Review: Easy Delivery Co.

There’s something soothing about driving your truck back and forth across this game’s deserted, snowy mountain towns. There's also something very tedious about it. Overall I think there's a bit too much repetition-without-challenge here for my taste.

Review: Giant Days

I read the first 3 or 4 volumes of this a few years ago and really liked it, but I guess I got sidetracked and forgot to finish it. Actually, I sort of forgot about comics in general for a while. Buying a color kindle recently gave me a renewed enthusiasm for the medium and Giant Days was the first series I wanted to revisit; this time I made it through all 14 main volumes as well as Early Registration. (There are a few extras I still need to read at some point, like the holiday specials.)

Anyway, this is a comic about college students. I’m very nostalgic about college. One of the best things about college is that it’s an unusually good opportunity to quickly make new, meaningful friendships; the heart of this comic is the friendship among its protagonists. There’s a related part of the college experience that Giant Days doesn’t do so good a job at capturing, though: the sheer size of social network that becomes part of your life. The characters are great but their social group often seems a bit small, which is perhaps why, while I love the comic, it doesn’t actually tap into my nostalgia all that much. And, of course, the characters aren’t constantly preoccupied with religious concerns the way I and my baptist-college friends were.

What makes college such a good time for making friends? The factor that always springs to mind for me is that I was living, dining, taking classes, and doing hobbies with many of the same people, which adds up to a lot of time together. But perhaps another important reason is just that my life was simpler and I was around lots of other people whose lives were simpler in the same way. Two freshmen trying to build a friendship don’t have to carefully schedule things to work around a bunch of disparate commitments they already have.

So, instead, I guess I just like the art, and the sweet and funny writing.
(And I'm a fan of chaotic goth girl protagonists.)